The Doctor's Reward
by Cartooned
Summary: Since it's time for the 10th Doctor to regenerate. An old friend of sorts drops by to help out.  Contains a character borrowed from the discworld as written by Terry Pratchett.


**Author note** – This took me a while to write. I kept writing a bit then stoping., Writing a bit more then stopping again. I decided it was finally time to just finish it. The whole mood at the end of the 10th Doctor was so sad. I wanted to make sure I did it justice and kept true to the feel of the end of time. I just hope at the end of the day I've done it justice.

The Doctor knew exactly what was coming. After all he had experienced this nine times before. Regeneration. For all the time lord scientist of old had always insisted that the cells were merely changing rather than dying the Doctor could never bring himself to believe it. It always felt like a death. Like saying goodbye to a part of himself he had grown to love and enjoy being. He resented it especially this time because he had known for so long it was coming ever since the ood had told him his song would be ending soon.

Some part of him couldn't help but think that as a Time Lord he should have been able to change his own future. After all wasn't that what he did? Save this person, stop the destruction of that civilisation, why when it really mattered to him couldn't he save himself?

But it was too late for regrets now. There would be no more time for wondering what could have happened if he had found some other way of saving Wilfred. In too short of time it wouldn't matter to him anymore anyway. He would be a new man. Maybe that's the way it should be. Maybe he needed to learn that there are some battles that even he can't win.

The Doctor stood at the console and stared down without really seeing what was in front of him. Where was he going to go now? Here he was, end of his regeneration, alone. Everyone had somebody else, didn't they? Sarah had her son, Martha had her family, Donna had hers, Jack had his team, and Mickey...what was Mickey doing these days anyway? Even Rose was happy in her alternate universe with her family and his doppelganger. No one needed him, but perhaps he needed them.

Sometimes, the Doctor thought the Time Lords lived too long. He had lived too long. He had gotten arrogant. What had happened on Mars still haunted him. He had been tempted oh so tempted to force his will on human history. To change the unchangeable. He had learned a terrible lesson that day.

He had told Wilfred that he was going to get his reward. His reward. Did he deserve a reward? Wouldn't it be better just to let this part of his life just fade away and let the new man go sauntering off? To start fresh with the mistakes of this regeneration behind him. But to start fresh he needed to stay goodbye to everyone that was part of this part of his life. They deserved that much. That would be his reward to be able to give them that.

The Doctor's hands flew on the console as they went to set his first stop, but he stopped suddenly when he felt hollow blue lights staring at the book of his head. He turned swiftly on the spot.

"Oh it's you," said the Doctor. "I knew you would be turning up sooner or later. Though I was suspecting later myself."

Death, a familiar usually unwelcome visitor/friend continued to pretend to read the murder mystery novel that was in his hands while his skeletal frame sat in a beach chair.

"Good book is it?" said the Doctor when it became clear that Death was ignoring him. "You're early you know. I may be dying true, but I've still got a few hours up my sleeves before I have to regenerate. Radiation poisoning a slow death for a time lord."

Death slowly lowered his book, and the blue lights pretending to be eyes looked over the top.

DO YOU MIND WAITING THEN? I'M ON VACATION As usually Death's words seemed to bypass the ears and head straight for the brain.

"Death takes a vacation?" said the Doctor, "On my TARDIS? At his time? Oh, and did you have to bring the horse?"

Blinky, Death's white horse, looked up the Doctor. If a horse could give someone a sarcastic look this one did.

"I'm guessing this is Blinky. Gorgeous horse, really er...wouldn't it be happier outside." The Doctor has never entirely approved of the idea of any animals (which aren't robotic) in the TARDIS. Animals tended to messy, but considering the horse's owner he wasn't going to complain.

BLINKY IS HAPPY ANYWHERE, said Death looking at Blinky almost fondly. HE HAS GLANDS. As if that explained everything.

"You know when someone told me I was going to die, that he would knock four times. For a moment there I thought it might be you. But that's not your style it is?" said the Doctor. "You don't cause deaths, you clean up afterwards. The Janitor of the Universe! You and me both."

I DO NOT KNOCK

"I've noticed that. Just walking right though the wall is your style. Good dramatic entrance. Horse and all."

The Doctor nodded. An awkward silence fell in the TARDIS. The Doctor kept himself busy at the controls of the TARDIS setting his next destination. He had promised Wilfred he would see him one last time, and he intended to keep his promise.

"So it's that time again. It's never a social call. I was really hoping for a couple more hours. There are a couple of people I want... need to say goodbye to."

I AM AWARE OF THIS, said DEATH, I HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING YOUR STORY SINCE WE LAST MET. YOU HAVE BEEN TRAVELING ALONE TOO LONG. YOU FORGOT THAT EVEN TIME LORDS CAN NOT CHANGE SOMETHINGS.

"I'm not proud of that. I tried to fight against Time itself and I lost. I tried to make the rules of time my own and I failed."

YOU WERE NEVER MEANT TO SUCCEED. NO ONE WAS. NOT EVEN A TIME LORD. HOWEVER YOU WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN YOU IF YOU HAD JUST WALKED AWAY.

"Right!" said the Doctor trying to change the subject "So have you been keeping yourself busy?" The Doctor regretted asking almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

IT'S A STEADY JOB KEEPING THE NODES BALANCED. Death looked around. I LIKE THE HAT STAND.

"It's a good hat stand. It does the job. Holds...hats." said the Doctor, 'Look, If I remember right, you usually don't turn up till the last minute.."

Death nodded. NATURALLY BUT I HAVE A FEW...SUGGESTIONS IF YOU LIKE AS TO HOW YOU CAN SPEND THEN NEXT TWO HOURS AS ONE OLD FIREND TO ANOTHER.

"Sure. Why not?," said the Doctor

Death sat up from his beach chair and with his skeletal fingers bought two hourglass out from the folds of his black cloak.

A FACTORY IN WALES, 2013. MARTHA AND MICKEY SMITH ARE WITHIN MINUTES OF BEING SHOT AT BY A SONTARAN. YOU MIGHT WANT TO TAKE THE HAMMER.

The Doctor was already changing the setting setting on the Tardis consol to hone in on them in Wales, even as he couldn't help but ask.

"Why are you telling me?'

WHAT BETTER WAY TO SAY GOODBYE TO FIRENDS THEN A GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING? LIFE. BEISDE THIS ISN'T REALLY MY UNIVERSE. I CAN AFFORD TO BE A BIT MORE... FLEXIABLE HERE.

The Tardis landed and the Doctor not wasting anytime picked up the hammer he kept near the console, and started for the door. He paused when he got there and looked back at Death.

"Thank you," said the Doctor simply.

Death nodded, sat back in his beach chair and bought his book back up.

OH, THERE IS ALSO A YOUNG BOY BY THE NAME OF LUKE SMITH CROSSING THE STREET WITHOUT LOOKING BOTH WAYS. HE COULD HAVE QUITE A NASTY INJURY.

The Doctor nodded, tossed the hammer up in the air.

"So I've got to go hit a Sontaran in the back of the neck, then save a young boy from a accident. Any more suggestions?"

THE REST IS UP TO YOU. I'VE GOT A BOOK TO FINSIH. SHOULD TAKE ME A FEW HOURS.

The Doctor nodded and walked out with the hammer.

As the Tardis doors closed, Death looked over his book at Blinky who was starting to munch on the only chair in the room.

NO WONDER THE DEATH OF THIS UNIVERSE REFUSES TO DEAL WITH THE TIME LORDS. THEY ARE SUCH HARD WORK. GOOD THING I'M USED TO THE INTERESTING CASES.

Blinky continued to munch on the seat, as Death put down his book.

HE'S GOTTON A LOT MORE SENTIMENTAL IN HIS OLD AGE HASN'T HE? HE NEVER USED TO SAY GOODBYE TO HIS COMPANIONS. BUT THEN I SUPPOSE I NEVER USED TO GIVE ANYONE ANY EXTRA TIME EITHER.

He withdrew a scratched up hourglass from his cloak. A couple of hours worth only of black sand filled the top half while the bottom half was filled with the normal pale yellow sand. Death run a finger over the scratched over name.

DO YOU THINK BLINKY WE WILL EVER FIND OUT WHAT'S HIS REAL NAME IS? NOT EVEN HIS BOOK HAS THAT INFORMATION. IT LIKE SOMEONE HAS TIRED TO ERASE IT FROM TIME ITSELF.

Death sighed to himself, put the hourglass away and picked up his book again. He had a murder mystery to get back to.


End file.
